Hunger Games Vignettes
by oddtom
Summary: I've got some random Hunger Games character ideas / short stories that don't really fit anywhere else so I'm going to put them into one collection. There is no intended connection between these stories; each one is in a separate world.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a collection of random segments that I have written that I think are interesting enough, but don't really fit into any of the stories I'm writing. If you're inspired by one of these, feel free to take it and run with it- I suppose that's the purpose of putting them up here. If you do, let me know about it- I'd like to see what you do with them. Thanks! : )**

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><p>I will not play their game.<p>

The pedestal rises up out of the catacombs under the arena and I lose sight of my wonderful costume designer. It is the last friendly face I will ever see. I am enclosed in a concrete tube for only a moment before rising up into the arena itself. A vast grassy plains spreads out before me, far past the cornucopia and beyond the tributes across from me.

It is such a beautiful sight and I give thanks for the opportunity to have witnessed it before my life is taken. A warm breeze flows over my face and I close my eyes. The aroma of the balmy, grassy plains fills my nostrils and sets my mind at ease. I can almost imagine that this is a paradise made just for me.

I sigh, opening my eyes back up, and take a deep breath. I sit down on my pedestal and look around. A circle of similar pedestals with tributes- no, just kids- of other districts surrounds me. Some are beginning to panic, as if they have just realized how close their death may be. Others are determined, willing themselves to survive, despite the odds. In any other situation, I would be intrigued by the different psychological responses, but now it no longer matters to me.

I have already accepted my fate.

When the gong goes off, the world falls still and silent. I can see the action unfolding around me, but it feels as if it is all happening somewhere else to some other person. The world is moving in slow motion and I see the games for what they really are. Kids fighting kids, killing each other, but for what? None of it makes sense to me.

All around me, lives are ending and I can feel hearts at home breaking.

The smart ones immediately turn from their pedestals and run from the fight, while the brave ones charge in dutifully. Kids of both strategies get cut down, their once life sustaining blood draining out onto the now tainted ground. A decade and a half of life simply ended with the swing of a blade. I can hear their screams and though I don't know most of them personally, I can still feel their agony.

The battle eventually subsides and only five tributes remain, hands gripping blood stained spears and swords. They are laughing at their recent conquest and their quarry's utter failure to fight back. They meander among the bodies, checking for survivors, not understanding why the cannons haven't fired yet, signaling the end of the bloodbath.

Julia, the girl from District 1, notices me first. She stares at me, confused, then a grin spreads across her face like a child who has discovered one last Christmas present hidden beneath the tree. She gets the attention of the others and points in my direction. They share some playful banter, then argue over who gets the honor of taking my life, as if they are arguing over the last cookie in the package.

Pepper, the boy from District 2, wins the argument with a threatening gesture toward Julia, and begins to stalk toward me. My body language resonates submission and acceptance to the inevitable.

I know that my time has come.

The warm breeze and sunlight continue to wash over me, seemingly oblivious of the horrors being committed below. As I sit on my pedestal, I remove my shirt and close my eyes again, basking in the warmth. I treasure every moment and every feeling as if it were my last, aware that any of them very well could be.

Pepper is now only a few feet away, but I have made no attempt to move. I continue to stare at the ground, watching a line of ants march between the blades of grass. He stops and stares at me, almost disappointed that I am showing no signs of fear or attempting to escape. After a few seconds of this, he barks out gruffly, "You aren't even going to try to fight?"

I lazily move my glance up to meet his gaze, but I don't say anything.

"Nothing?", he barks, "Well I guess I don't blame you." He looks up and down my scrawny, malnourished body. "You wouldn't last very long anyway."

I sigh and stand up. I hesitate, looking down at the shirt now crumpled in my hand, and ask him in a philosophical haze, "Well, what would you do if you knew you only had twenty seconds left to live?"

He stares at me for a while longer, and I can see a faint glimmer of pity in his eyes, but it is not nearly enough for him to spare me. Instead, he brings up the sword, ready to end my misery. Before he does, however, I toss the crumpled shirt up into his face, blocking his eyes.

He tries to swing the sword, but this movement is predictable. I move in and block his swing with my right arm, clench my left fist, and bring it up into his lower ribcage as hard as I can. There is a muffled cracking sound and I know I've achieved my goal. He lets out a surprised yelp of pain and throws a wild punch with his right arm. This move is also predictable and I raise my left hand to block. With my right hand now free, I throw a second punch into the same location, this one much harder, completely breaking the dislocated rib.

Pepper drops the sword and stumbles backward. He finally manages to wrench my shirt off his face, and is just in time to see me heel kick him just below the sternum. He hits the ground, which knocks the breath out of him.

I casually pick up the dropped sword and walk over to him. He is now writhing in agony, gasping, trying to catch his breath. I smile down at him and say, "Make that three seconds left to live", and jam the sword down into his throat.


	2. Chapter 2

"What is this getup?" I snap at Tucker, my stylist. I know that it isn't his fault that we are given such uncomfortable uniforms this year, but I was already a little annoyed that the ride to the arena had taken much longer than usual and that the windows had been blacked out for almost the entire trip.

"I don't get to choose the outfits, only help you into them," he responds, not affected by my bitter attitude. Instead, he seems to be distracted by a similar curiosity about the unique uniforms. "Though I do admit that I've never seen an outfit quite like this in any of the games I've attended."

He forces the last piece of my uniform on me and clasps it into place. Then he backs up to get a better look at me. "I'm sure there's a purpose for it though", he muses, rubbing his chin.

"Whatever it's for, it's not running", I say as I struggle to move. The suit is thick and fits tightly to my body, resisting any kind of movement.

Tucker ponders this for a moment, then says, "Well, the other tributes are going to be in the same uniform, so it will be just as difficult for them to move." After a moment, he asks, "Are you claustrophobic at all?"

I'm slightly taken aback. "Claustro- what?"

"Claustrophobic" he repeats, "Do you get uncomfortable in tight spaces?"

I have to think about that for a second. It has never really been an issue for me, so I can't honestly say for sure. One time my brother had locked me in a closet for embarrassing him at school, but it was more boring than scary.

He reads my expression and nods. Then explains, "They told me to make sure that you know not remove any piece of your uniform unless someone or something specifically tells you that it is safe to do so. Your uniform is completely air-tight and that canister on your back contains compressed gas of some kind. I'd guess it will be for breathing. You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the arena was underwater", he finishes.

I pause for a second, thinking of the implications of that. "Does the capitol know that I can't swim?" I reply incredulously.

"The people of the capitol want to see a show, not 24 tributes drown after the opening gong. I'm sure you'll be fine", Tucker assures me.

As he fits a helmet on my head, his reassuring voice becomes curiously distant and tinny. He seems to realize this and points emphatically to an invisible watch, then to the capsule, indicating that it is time to go. He leads me to the lift that will take me into the arena, then gives me another reassuring pat on the back as it closes, sealing me off.

As the sealed capsule lifts me upward out of the catacombs and into darkness, I do start to feel a little claustrophobic, as if I am trapped within the confined space of this ugly suit. The capsule continues to ascend, but the opening to the arena remains shut as I approach it. Instead, the capsule grinds to a halt. I wonder briefly if this is normal before a radio in my helmet crackles to life and I hear the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the commentator and voice of the games.

"Tributes! Welcome to the 150th Annual Hunger Games! As you may have guessed, the arena this year is a slight departure from our usual venues. It has its own set of... quirks... that I am sure you all will come to appreciate in time. That being said, your stylists should have mentioned this, but in the unlikely case that they did not, I feel it necessary to emphasize that under no circumstances should you remove any piece of your uniform unless there is a sign specifically saying that it is safe to do so. We wouldn't want any tributes to be eliminated early, now would we?" He laughs as if our imminent deaths are some absurd joke. "At any rate, I do hope that you enjoy the arena this year and, as always, may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The radio crackles again, then is silent. I am forced to wait in my tiny tomb for a few minutes longer in complete silence.

I jump at a sudden hissing sound, and realize that it is just the hatch above me opening. I have to squint from the sudden light shining down from the arena above. The capsule begins to lift me again, then comes to a stop, leaving me on my starting pedestal. The golden cornucopia glimmers in front of me and the radio in my ear begins a timer counting down from thirty.

I am relieved to find that I am not submerged in water, but I can't honestly tell if it is better because the environment here is completely alien to me. The first thing I notice is that it is night time. Most games begin in the morning or early afternoon, but the stars are already out. Despite this, I have no real trouble seeing the cornucopia or the other tributes on pedestals around me, each also wearing a clumsy, bulky uniform. The moonlight must be enough to illuminate the ground.

I look up at the moon and am surprised to find that for some reason, it has turned blue with wisps of white and green. That is strange enough, but the arena itself seems to be completely white and sandy. There is not a single tree, or any plant for that matter, in sight, but there are mountains in the distance and numerous bowl-shaped cavities along the surface.

A sudden movement to my right catches my eye and I turn my head to look. It looks like a tribute three pedestals to my right- I can't tell who because everyone looks the same in these uniforms- has lost his balance. I can see him flailing his arms as best as he can in the stiff suit, but he inevitably falls in slow motion toward the ground. When he hits, there is a bright flash of light and sand is sent into the air, clouding my view of him. I should be close enough to hear the mine go off, but I hear nothing besides the timer counting down in my ear.

The sand cloud expands farther than it should, and I can see the sand particles floating down in slow motion, seemingly defying gravity.

I stare horrified at where a tribute once stood as the sand settles. Did the gamemakers really have the ability to change gravity? To nullify sound? To modify universal physics constants? I am going to have to take nothing for granted.

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><p><strong>Have you figured it out yet? Ok, so this is a strange concept that I came up with, but I don't really know how to make a story out of it. If they can't remove their helmets, how can they eat or drink? Fires would be nonexistent in space, but the gamemakers could potentially send in meteor strikes whenever they feel like it.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Up for a little meta-humor? Shout out to stellaslomp! You're awesome!**

For once, the gamemakers were ahead of schedule.

Steve, one of the apprentice gamemakers, went back over everything, double checking the arena settings one more time, as if it was going to be any different from the last thirty times he had done the same thing. Looking over toward Fred, his fellow gamemaker, he said, "Ok, I've got the muttation traps set, the tributes are lining up under their pedestals, and... hey, what are you doing?"

Fred was hunched over his screen, obviously focused on something. He had not even registered the question. Steve, curious about what Fred was so intently focused on, crept up behind him and looked over his shoulder.

"Hey!... What are you doing? Is... is that FanFiction dot net?"

Fred jumped when he heard Steve right behind him, but recovered quickly "Yea, man! There's some cool stuff on here!" He backed out of the page and turned to look at Steve. "Did you know that there are about 130 crossovers between Hunger Games and Glee? I thought I was the only one who wanted those kids to die..."

Steve, hardly impressed, just glared at him. "Look, man, we're on the clock, you're supposed to be working."

"This is work... kinda. I'm researching! There are some really neat ideas on here!" At this, he opened up one of the many internet browser tabs he had open and read a few lines. "So this one is a story about some girl who volunteers because she's about to get murdered. Well anyway, when she's in the arena, she runs into old friends that she has been separated from for a long time. And now they have to choose between friendship and murdering each other! It gives me an idea for next year, where we could..."

Before he was able to finish, the doors crashed open and both gamemakers look up as a tiny woman stomped in. Anita Shauer, the head gamemaker, was literally pulling her hair out in frustration as she tromped into the room. "Can you believe this?!" she hissed at Fred and Steve.

Steve just rolled his eyes, but Fred jumped up and started ranting, "Yea, I know, right? She didn't even finish the story! What happens when Jonah, Carter, Jaydah, and Liam are the last ones left in the arena? It's like she stopped before the story climax! And I can't PM and ask her either because she's got some kind of 'private mode' enabled. And... and..." He stopped as he noticed that Steve and Anita were both just staring at him confused. "And... um... nevermind. What were you saying?"

Anita dismissed Fred's ranting with a wave. "Look, guys, we've got a real problem." She emphatically slammed down a pile of folders and assorted paper onto Fred's desk. She let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed her eyes. "...One of the tributes is missing."

"What?!", both Fred and Steve replied at once.

Anita nodded, "Carmen, the girl from 6. But it gets worse. Check out the main screen." She walked over and flipped the main projection screen to the cornucopia. Or where the cornucopia should have been. Instead, there was just a vaguely triangular shaped patch of dirt between the pedestals.

Steve and Fred couldn't believe their eyes. Steve replied, "What? Where's the cornucopia?"

Anita sighed again, "We think... well, we think she stole it."

This time it was Fred to respond, "What do you mean she stole it? How is that even possible?"

Anita nodded. "I know. We should have seen it coming. We went back through her profile and it seems like this Carmen SanDiego has a... history... of stealing unlikely targets then mysteriously disappearing."

"What about her tracker?" Steve asks.

Anita shook her head, "Apparently before we can catch her we need to get a warrant and the loot. It's complicated."

Steve and Fred nodded silently. Then Steve spoke up again, "What about her district partner? Would he know anything?"

"Well, we tried to talk to him, but we had trouble finding him too."

"What? Does he not have a tracker either?"

Anita sighed and said, "No, we know where he is, we just... can't find him."

"What is that supposed to mean?", Steve asked incredulously.

"See for yourself", Anita said, as she switched the main screen to the supposed location of the boy from 6.

"Why is there so much clutter in that room?", Steve asked, "Are you sure that he's in there? I don't see him anywhere." Steve replied, then turned to look at Anita.

"Where's Waldo?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, while I'm in the mood for silly plot lines, this is an alternate universe where Katniss is not an idiot. Either that, or it is the first time a living sponsor gift has been sent to the arena. I'm a fan of the latter.**

"Ready to do it?", Katniss says, pulling on her pack.

"Do what?", says Rue.

"Today we take out the Careers' food", Katniss states.

"Really? How?", Rue asks, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Katniss begins to respond, but before she can finish that sentence, the sound of trumpets echoes out across the arena. Rue and Katniss look at each other, surprised by this sudden turn of events. The trumpets only ever sound in the games when there is a victor, which there obviously isn't, or when there is an announcement.

Rue and Katniss stand there in silence, listening for the voice of Claudius Templesmith, but it never comes. Instead, they hear a flapping sound behind them. They both turn just in time to see a tall, muscular man fly down out of the sky and land on a rock on the bank of the flowing creek, his perfectly combed hair and flashy cape waving in the wind. He has his hands on his hips, accenting his well-toned upper body. More curiously, he is wearing what looks like a combination of tights and boots. As he lands, he looks valiantly off into the distance, as if unaware of the two girls standing there gaping at this sudden, strange appearance.

Katniss is the first to come to her senses. "Umm.. can I help you?", she ventures cautiously.

When she says this, the man in the cape turns her way and flashes a charming smile. In a smooth, deep voice, he booms out, "Why hello there young ones! I am the wonderful, the great, the magnificent... Captain Obvious!" He thrusts his arms toward the sky to accentuate this fact. He pauses in this stance for a brief moment, then points to the letters C.O. written on his tightly fitted top. "The C and the O stand for 'Captain' and 'Obvious', in case you couldn't tell."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious", Katniss blandly responds. She looks over to Rue, who is still dumbfounded, and then back to the strange man, then back to Rue, not entirely sure if the effects of the tracker jacker venom had completely worn off yet.

Captain Obvious reads this reaction and steps down off of the rock and onto shore. "I heard that you require my assistance, young ones!" He pauses, then adds, "Are you or are you not Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire?"

Katniss nods, though she is still somewhat stunned by this bizarre turn of events.

Captain Obvious responds jovially, "Excellent! Then I have come to the right place!" Then he looks over toward Rue and explains, "You know that she's not actually on fire, right?"

Rue looks over at Katniss, who meets her stare and they share a look that means something along the lines of "who is this weirdo and what is he doing here?"

Captain Obvious either doesn't see this or pretends not to notice it as he continues with his banter. "I heard you are formulating a plan to relieve the Careers of their duties in the arena. May I hear of this bold plan of which you speak?"

Katniss looks back at him and shrugs. What harm could it do? "Well Rue here was going to start a couple of fires with green wood to make excess smoke. When the careers run out here distracted, I was going to go and blow up the excess supplies, along with a part of my ear, while little Rue here gets herself caught in a net trap, then stabbed. We don't actually succeed in killing any careers, but the supplies are gone, so that's kind of a success. Oh, and later, I'll take a knife to the face." She looks up, thinking for a second, then nods with finality. "But, yea, that's about the gist of it. "

Captain Obvious, who has listened intently to every word, takes this moment to face-palm. He holds the pose for a moment, then looks back up. He points an accusing gloved finger toward Katniss and says, "You're not very smart, are you?"

This throws Katniss, and anger begins to well up inside her. As if this strange, random man knows the first thing about her. Before Katniss can begin her rant, however, Captain Obvious hold up his hand. "Now, there, sweetie, let's take a look at this 'plan' of yours." At the term 'plan', he uses his index and middle finger to make air quotes. He sighs and begins, "First of all, why would anyone build a fire, made from green wood no less, during this afternoon heat after having survived such cold nights? It kind of screams trap to me, and it likely will to them too. Wouldn't it make more sense to light the distracting fire at night, especially since you have those night vision glasses?"

Katniss opens her mouth to argue, but then realizes that he has a point.

Captain Obvious takes this opportunity to continue. "Furthermore, both you and your little friend Rue here know who of the careers are left and what weapons they use. You both are fully aware that Clove is the only tribute with a ranged weapon. Why would you face them from the ground when you would have an advantage from the trees?"

Katniss shrugged. She didn't really have an answer to that.

Captain Obvious takes this as a sign to finish his explanation. "It seems to me that you could take out the entire career pack tonight by lighting a fire, climbing a tree, and waiting for them to come to you. If you can hit a skunk from 50 feet away with those dark sight glasses, hitting a few careers right below you will be nothing. You will have the first shot for free, because they don't think they have anything or anyone to fear. Aim for Clove, the only one with ranged weapons. After this, they will be looking for you. Set up your next shot while little Rue here jumps from tree to tree and distracts them. While they're looking for where the sound came from, hit the other one wearing dark sight glasses. Boom, two down, one to go. So now you have one blind career with a melee weapon just sitting under your tree, or running away if he's smart, for one more easy kill", nodding as he finishes, as if this is the clearly the only way to go about this.

Katniss finds that although she finds this man annoying, she is nodding and agreeing with every word.

He smiles at this and looks between the two of them, then finishes, "That way, you don't lose any arrows, the careers are all down, you can still hear, and you still have the supplies from the cornucopia to pick from. Also, your little friend here doesn't get stabbed, so there's that too", he motions toward Rue.

He smiles at them, while Katniss goes over this in her head.

After a dramatic pause, Captain Obvious steps back and declares, "Well, it looks my work here is done! So long young ones!" He crouches down, then jumps and flies off into the sky. The trumpets sound again, and he is gone.


End file.
